


Surprise!

by ezziesworld (orphan_account)



Series: Domestic Bliss [3]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content, vague descriptions of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23582392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ezziesworld
Summary: J lets it slip that it's his birthday. You throw him an impromptu party.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Reader, Joker (DCU)/You, Joker/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Domestic Bliss [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697530
Kudos: 44





	Surprise!

You clung to him like a lifeline, hips rolling in time to his as you lost yourself. It was just past midnight, last you checked. J had come home and sought you out immediately, stripping himself down until it was skin against skin, shaken breaths and desperate moans in the shadows of your bedroom. You found your release with each other, a high keening moan that coalesced with his low, stuttering growl, before the leaden weight of post climactic bliss weighed on your bodies. 

J dropped his head to your shoulder, his paint sticky and running, as he breathed out something you almost didn’t catch. 

“You’re one _helluva_ birthday present, _doll_.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could ask him about it, he pulled himself away. His warmth left you in favor of the bathroom, the light flicked on and splitting the darkness of your bedroom with a sliver of yellow. You found yourself staring after him, the sound of the shower running coaxing you to slip from the bed and join him. You padded along the cool wood floor, before pushing open the door and stepping inside. Stripping your clothes off, they joined his on the floor before you smoothly stepped into the shower. 

The water was well past hot, the bathroom filled with a balmy humidity that made your chest feel light. It was pleasant, and you smiled softly as you reached out and touched him. J was standing beneath the water, letting it pour down onto his head, his hair turning a deep emerald that splayed across his face. Your fingertips touched his stomach, sliding upwards to lay palm flat against his sternum. 

“So, are we just going to pretend you didn’t say that?” You asked. Your finger tips following the line of a scar on his chest, raised and thin, before glancing up. J’s eyes were black beneath the shroud of his wet hair, his tongue slowly dragging along his lower lip in a moment of contemplation. 

“I got a _feelin_ ’ you’re not gonna let it, ah, _drop_ either.” J remarked, raising his hand to push away the hair on his face. His skin was still mottled with persistent specks of white and red, the black around his eyes slimmed to a sliver. You reached up and began rubbing it off with your thumb, like a mother would with a messy toddler. J gave no resistance, rather watching you with intent. 

“ _Nope–_ -In fact, I want to know more. If you don’t clarify, I’m just going to assume that it’s your birthday today, and that means yearly parties. The works, too. Balloons, streamers..” You trailed on, moving to the next blotch of paint on his skin, red that stained the protruding flesh of his scar. J gave a small grunt of annoyance, before sharply clicking his tongue. 

“You sure know how to _threaten_ a man, _dont’cha?”_

You grinned, raising yourself up to kiss him on the lips. Lingering for a moment, J wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close, until the water pelted onto your head and his bare skin was flush against your own. 

“It is, isn’t it? Today’s your birthday. Don’t suppose you’d tell me how old you are?” You breathed out against his mouth, and then he gripped your hair. It wasn’t a brutal hold, but firm, tugging your head back to force an arch into your neck. J’s obsidian gaze darted to and fro, debating for a moments time, and you thought he might actually indulge you. 

“Not a chance—gotta keep that uh, _mystery_ alive, _hmm?_ ” 

You gave a soft gasp when he tugged your hair, his arm tight around your waist as he dipped down and kissed you. It wasn’t particularly gentle, the sharp nip of his teeth followed shortly with your back against the cool tile wall. 

.

After your salacious embrace in the shower, you went to bed planning. He always left sometime before morning, the rare occasion where he did stay you would hear the clatter of dishes and _God knows_ what else from the warmth of your bed. He was always awake before you, that morning, you awoke to silence. 

There was almost always one of his goons around. He didn’t tell you when he had started employing a bodyguard for you, but eventually you figured it out. You slipped out of your apartment, and after a frustrating tail chase, you managed to lose him in the midst of Gotham’s busy streets. J wouldn’t be happy to hear that you’d shaken his goon, but you told yourself you’ll deal with the consequences later. Your first stop was the party supply store, then onto the weapons surplus further into the narrows. You imagined you would look pretty odd walking into the gun-shop with a bag that read _‘Gotham Party Warehouse’_ , and you laughed to yourself as you strolled on wards. 

Now, your apartment looked like it was prime real-estate for a for a children’s birthday party. Balloons, streamers, a banner that read ‘ _Happy Birthday J_ ’ strung above the archway leading into your kitchen. Although the entire thing was a prodding joke, you still found yourself admiring the colorful myriad of decorations that adorned your quaint living room. On your couch was a single wrapped present (solid, matte purple paper tied together with a silken orange ribbon), you plucked it from the sofa and flipped it around in your hands, the sound of metal clinking together drawing a smile to your face. 

Then, the door opened. 

You pivoted in place, shoving the box behind your back. J immediately squinted, glaring about the small area with a knit of his brows, before landing on you. 

“Happy birthday!” You beamed. J stood for a moment longer, un-moving say for the flicker of his obsidian gaze, scanning the room with an expression akin to distaste. He sucked his teeth, stepped into the apartment, and shut the door with a force that rattled it in it’s frame. You flinched, but your grin was plastered tight. 

“Y’know, wasn’t _ex-pec-ting_ you to follow through with your, ah, _threat_. “ He mused, approaching a purple streamer that dangled limply from the ceiling. He reached out and tugged on it, tearing it down with a scowl. You snickered, 

“I’m a woman of my word.” You replied. 

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, like it was being pulled by a string, and it made your heart stutter in your chest. 

“Cake?” He plainly asked. 

“Yep.” 

“No _singing_.” 

“Wouldn’t think of it.” 

J gave a sigh through his nose, relenting with a click of his tongue, before he turned his gaze once more to you. 

“Haven’t got all day, _sweethear-t._ Get on with it.” 

You were nearly bouncing with excitement, drawing the box from behind your back. J cocked his head slightly, and you gestured towards the sofa. 

“Sit down for me?” 

J looked nearly petulant, giving an exaggerated roll of his eyes before he walked past you and threw his lengthy frame on the couch. He kicked his feet out, crossing them at the ankle while resting his chin on his knuckles, elbow planted firmly in the armrest. With his other hand, he made a ‘gimme’ motion. You quickly handed it over, J taking it before turning it in his hand. He promptly shook it, and you tsked him, 

“No cheating, J. We both know you can guess what’s in there.” You chided. 

“It’s a knife. How _original_.” He jeered. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Would you _just_ open it?” 

He gave a sigh, propping himself up and yanking on the orange ribbon. You felt your heart quicken in your chest as he tore apart the paper and opened the box. J hummed, reaching in and plucking an automatic switch blade from inside—steel, it’s handle black and accented with a deep purple. He flicked the mechanism with his thumb, the click as it opened seemed to please him. Disregarding the knife a moment, he reached back into the box and pulled a pair of handcuffs out, dangling them from his forefinger before bringing his gaze upwards with a cock of his brow. 

You grinned, reaching down and grabbing the hem of your shirt. You stripped quickly, shimmying off your pants and kicking them away until you were left in just your underwear—a special set you had picked out that very day. It was happenstance that you found a pair that perfectly matched his trench. A deep plum hue, thin lace and skimpy as ever. In bright orange ribbon there were two bows, one on the middle of the bra band, the other centerfold of your panties. To complete the picture, you were wearing a pair of thigh high black stockings. 

The apples of your cheeks boasting a light dusting of pink, your smile threatening to break the suggestive burn of your eyes, J grinned. It looked deviant, searing with ill intention, but for J, a look like that was the equivalent of genuine mirth. 

“Happy birthday, J.” You conjured your best _‘fuck-me’_ voice, and J’s grip tightened on the new switchblade in his hand.

_“Now we’re talkin’.”_


End file.
